


My Only One

by RobinsonsWereHere



Series: I Think We Could Do It If We Tried [3]
Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Escape, Established Relationship, F/F, Golden, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Late Night Conversations, Lesbians, Letters, Misunderstandings, Romance, love is in the air writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29310594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinsonsWereHere/pseuds/RobinsonsWereHere
Summary: Trixie tries to move on after Valerie leaves Poplar. She tries to pretend everything is normal and get on with her everyday life. But she can't justforgetthe woman she loves. She can't let her go without some sort of goodbye.So instead of moving on, she books a plane ticket to South Africa. It's a risky, impulsive decision, but it's what she needs.As it turns out, it's what Valerie needs, too.Written for startrekkingaroundasgard's Love Is In The Air writing challenge, 2021.
Relationships: Trixie Franklin & Patsy Mount, Valerie Dyer/Trixie Franklin
Series: I Think We Could Do It If We Tried [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980610
Comments: 13
Kudos: 7





	My Only One

**Author's Note:**

> Good morning, and happy early Valentine's Day! I hope you're happy to see some more valtrix from me, and don't worry, I haven't abandoned my other fics for them- I'm getting there! Quick note about some bits of this fic that might not seem totally realistic: I'm not going to spoil anything, but it can mostly be summed up by saying I wanted to write a soft, emotional romance fic, not an angsty fic centering on being closeted lesbians in 1966. I did try to have some references to period-typical homophobia etc, and Trixie and Valerie aren't being totally careless, but it's not perfect. But hey, nobody's perfect! Enjoy the read!

It starts, as have other difficult stages of her life, with a phone call at midnight.

Well, no. It starts with a hesitant kiss, a whispered confession, the opening of a whole new world.

And then it ends, and the phone call is what she’ll come to think of as the _second_ beginning.

Trixie is on the night shift, but she’s not very busy, at least, not yet. Lucille had been called out around ten, and Trixie had taken her place, but in the four hours since then, nothing has happened. She’s alone in the quiet and the dark, alone with her thoughts. That’s never been her favorite place to be.

She’s made it through the past few months by trying to move on, to keep working, to think about Valerie as little as possible. Seeing as Sister Julienne seems to be trusting her as a right hand in the expansion project, she’s plenty busy. But the nights, as cliche as it sounds, are always the hardest.

The bed across from her is empty now, and in the early weeks, it had hurt to look at. In the past, Val’s bed being empty had meant she was simply away on a call, or even better, sharing Trixie’s bed, her lanky form wrapped around Trixie from behind. But now it only serves as a heart-crushing reminder that she’s gone. This isn’t her home anymore. _Trixie_ isn’t her home anymore.

She idly fiddles with the small watch attached at the breast pocket of her uniform. In the small space between the backing and the gears hides a torn slip of paper, containing only one word.

_Sorry._

She’d found it under Valerie’s pillow, when she’d finally laid down and stopped trying to stop the tears from falling, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend’s pillow and inhaling the familiar scent. The note was clearly meant for her, despite its brevity and lack of address. Who else would find it?

Valerie certainly owed apologies to all of them, for leaving like she had. But she hadn’t cared to give them, and because of that, Trixie had almost tossed the small paper scrap in the trash.

But she couldn’t. Not when she didn’t know when she would see her girlfriend again. Not when it was the only goodbye she’d gotten. 

And if it sometimes made it harder, to try to move on, to try not to think about it… well, that was just her penance.

So yes, at two in the morning in the darkened hallway, Trixie has turned her attention to the little watch, and all it holds. She doesn’t dare open it up, but just knowing is enough, enough to make the fist around her heart squeeze tighter. It’s been a good two months, long enough that the snow is beginning to melt, or be washed away by sleet and rain. Long enough that they’ve gone ahead and put an ad in several midwifery gazettes. But nowhere near long enough to forget.

As memories and emotions wash over her, Trixie reaches for the phone in front of her and picks it up, dialing a Scotland number. She doesn’t really expect an answer this late at night, but a sleepy, welsh-accented voice proves her wrong.

_”Who the hell is calling at two in the bleeding morning?”_

“Delia, it’s Trixie,” Trixie says, feeling suddenly guilty for waking her friend. “I…” but she doesn’t know how to finish that sentence.

_”Trixie?”_ Delia suddenly sounds more awake. _”Is everything alright?”_

“Everything’s fine,” Trixie says quickly, blowing her bangs out of her face. “I just-- I need you to convince me not to buy a plane ticket to South Africa.”

There’s a silence, and then, _”Is this about Valerie?”_

It honestly feels odd to hear her name spoken aloud. “Yes.” Trixie takes a deep, steadying breath. “I miss her so much.”

_”I know how you feel,”_ Delia says, and Trixie knows she does. She remembers how quiet Delia had been in those first weeks after Patsy had gone to Hong Kong. _”But Trix, two am is generally not the best time for making major decisions.”_

Trixie heaves a long sigh. “You’re right. I know that. But it doesn’t help.”

Delia doesn’t respond right away, but Trixie hears muffled voices on the other end, like she’s talking to someone away from the phone. _”Patsy wants to talk to you.”_

She waits patiently for the phone to be handed over, and sure enough, Patsy’s voice, thick with sleep, comes through the receiver. _”Trixie, what’s wrong?”_

“Nothing. Everything.” She sighs again. “I don’t know what to do without Valerie. It’s just like it used to be, Patsy. When I’m not working, or seeing patients, I don’t feel like I have a purpose. A real, full life.”

Patsy hums. _”You haven’t been drinking, have you?”_

“No!” Trixie physically flinches. “I won’t say I haven’t thought of it, but it was a passing thought. Nothing more.”

_”I believe you,”_ Patsy assures her. _”Trixie, I know you miss her, but I think what you need right now is a good night’s sleep.”_

“I’m on the night shift, Patsy,” she reminds her.

_”Tea, then. You know you can’t just run off to South Africa. Just think about the logistics. How would you explain it to Sister Julienne?”_

“Val didn’t explain anything,” Trixie mutters petulantly.

_”From what you’ve told me, she still did have to clear it with Sister Julienne.”_

“You, Nurse Mount, are always right,” Trixie grumbles. “It’s one of your most infuriating qualities.”

_”Thank you.”_

“I’m sorry I woke you up.”

_”Don’t be. I’m here when you need me.”_

“Goodnight, Patsy. Give Delia my love.”

_”Will do. Goodnight.”_

And then she hangs up, and Trixie is alone in the night with her thoughts once again.

\---

The phone call should have been the end of it, should have put a stop to her wild fantasies of hopping on a plane and just _going,_ of not having to wait for Valerie to decide if and when they would reunite. It should’ve made her see sense, and get her head on straight again.

But it wasn’t the end; it was the beginning. And it did none of those things.

Even as Trixie returns to focusing on work, throws herself into the expansion plans with gusto, the conversation with Patsy, and the unending longing for Val, stays in the back of her mind. She keeps thinking about it, her dreams tossing her through time when all she wants is a restful slumber. She clearly remembers the shock and pain of realizing Valerie had left. There had been no warning, nothing at all… she was there, and then she wasn’t.

When it gets to the point where the idea simply will not let her go, Trixie writes to Patsy again. It’s a very flexible step… it sets her up to continue this foolhardy plan, or simply gives her a weekend visit with a close friend she misses. Easy. Harmless.

But writing the letter isn’t all she does. She carefully counts out saved money, moves some that had been set out for dresses and makeup into her savings. She has enough for a plane ticket to South Africa, and that, like the letter, is simply an early measure. It doesn’t mean she’s going to take action, but… it gives her the opportunity to do so.

The letter, unlike the cash, also gives her a deadline.

Easter. She needs to know if she’s going or not by the Tuesday after Easter.

Some nights, she’s not sure she can wait until Easter; she’s not sure she’ll survive another day without Valerie in her arms.

Some nights, she’s sure she’s crazy for even thinking of going. Her work, her life, her family is all in Poplar. She needs to stop wallowing in memories and get back to normal.

But as the spring comes, she leans more and more towards going. A week before Easter, she packs a bag, a small one, about a week’s worth of clothes, which she can wash if she stays longer.

She might not be staying very long at all. There’s always the possibility that Valerie won’t want her there. But Trixie tries not to think about that.

The biggest obstacle is undeniably going to be Sister Julienne. Her plan is hardly suitable in that regard. Yes, she’s covering all her bases… Patsy will be cross, but will surely agree to fill in for her work duties. She’s leaving letters as specific as she can be. Everything should work out, but the one thing she can’t control is how they respond.

Trixie has no real reason for running off to South Africa, after all. There’s no telling what Sister Julienne will think. She’ll have to tell her where she’s going, and her boss is too smart a woman to not make the connection to Valerie. Trixie only hopes she’ll be kind enough to not ask, not wonder, not push.

It’s a gamble, she knows. But she’s set herself on this path for sure now, and she won’t let herself turn back.

\---

Quite simply, Trixie chooses to depart Tuesday night because no one will miss her. They likely won’t notice until the morning that she’s gone. And by morning, she’ll be in South Africa already… or close enough.

She delivers three letters on her way out. One apology to Lucille, tucked in with her makeup where she’ll find it in the morning. An explanation to Phyllis, with whom she can be the most open, behind the box she keeps her hair rollers in. And the formal, professional letter to Sister Julienne, left right on her desk.

They all say the same thing, really. _Don’t worry about me. I am of sound mind and health. I will be coming back._

When Trixie leaves for AA-- which she _does_ attend, make no mistake-- she takes her small duffel with her. And as easy as that, she vanishes into the night. No fanfare, no real goodbyes. Just as Valerie had.

\---

South Africa is hot.

The wave of thick, scorching heat that hits Trixie as she dismounts the plane brings back memories. So does the bright sun, bathing everything golden. Even the rickety bus ride feels somewhat nostalgic, though she misses the chatter and companionship that had been there the last time.

The journey to Hope Clinic is just as long as she remembers, but it doesn’t feel so tiresome this time… she feels, perhaps suitably, hopeful.

Whether she stays for a week or a month, she’s about to get answers. She’s about to see the woman she loves for the first time in months.

That feeling is so much more euphoric than she ever could have imagined.

As she approaches the clinic, it becomes clear that it’s a busy day. Patients mill about, chatting with each other, or with the nurses and sisters. Nurses are scattered through the crowd, identifiable by their white uniforms, treating patients and bringing them inside the clinic. Trixie catches sight of one bent over, looking at a baby held in his mother’s arms, and when she stands up…

When she stands up, Trixie nearly gasps, unprepared for seeing her girlfriend for the first time in months. Valerie pushes her hair out of her face as she rises, and Trixie notices it’s gotten longer, brunette curls almost reaching her shoulders. She’s an angelic sight, skin more tan from the sun, starched white uniform dusted with dirt. Trixie knows the moment she sees her, because her jaw drops, and her piercing blue eyes meet hers.

Trixie waves, suddenly overcome with nerves to the point that she can barely move forward. What if this was a horrible idea? What if she’s what Valerie was trying to get away from? What if she’s about to ruin everything, and break her own heart in the process?

Valerie says something to her patient, pointing her back to the hospital building, but then she looks right at Trixie again, and it doesn’t seem that she has the same nerves, because she begins to stride quickly towards her, looking much more confident than Trixie feels. But her shock is still visible on her face, in the way her jaw is half-open, in how wide her eyes are. She makes it to Trixie quickly, and when they meet, they’re still away from the crowd.

It’s hardly private, but it’s _enough._

“Trixie,” Valerie says, and the sound of her voice is so familiar that Trixie’s throat closes up. “Bloody hell. What are you doing here?”

Trixie shakes her head, helpless to explain to her girlfriend what she can hardly explain to herself. “Following you.”

Again, the prevalent emotion on Valerie’s face is shock, surprise, like she didn’t expect this, didn’t know that Trixie would go to the ends of the earth for her, that she would cross an ocean and a continent before she would accept life apart. “You-- you came all the way to South Africa. For me.”

Still having a hard time speaking, Trixie nods. “I’m sorry for just… showing up, you might not even want me here, but I--”

Whatever excuse she could’ve given is cut off almost immediately by the brunette’s protests. “Oh, Trix, of course I want you here. When I ran, I--” she looks down, a dark cloud flickering over her face. “I wasn’t running from you.”

Twin emotions of guilt and relief sweep over Trixie, making her feel a bit weak, though the midday sun could also have something to do with it. She can’t stop herself from wrapping Valerie suddenly in her arms, inhaling the scent of soap and sweat and cigarettes. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice thick with tears.

“No, no,” Val murmurs, holding her just as tight. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“It’s been nearly six months, Valerie, and I can’t stop thinking about where I went wrong,” she admits hoarsely. “If I was too busy, and didn’t make time to help you through everything. If I wasn’t listening, didn’t understand, wasn’t there when you needed me.” She’s glad she’s already sweated off her mascara, because the tears falling now would surely ruin it. “I can’t stop wondering why you felt like you had to leave without saying goodbye.”

Valerie steps out of the hug, looking at Trixie with a heavy sadness in her gaze. “It wasn’t your fault, Trixie. None of it was your fault. And if I really knew how to explain it, I… I wouldn’t be so afraid to come home.”

Despite the desperation of their conversation, Trixie feels worlds lighter just getting to hold her girlfriend again. She reaches to take her hand, and the smile she offers isn’t entirely forced. “I know what it feels like,” she murmurs. “To suddenly be unable to breathe the air you’ve lived off of for ages. I know how scary it is, and how lost it leaves you.” She adds another hand, covering one of Valerie’s with both of her own. “And right now I just hope I can help you be a little less scared.”

\---

It was all well and good, ducking into the shade of a tree for a personal conversation, just far enough from private eyes. They’d gotten lucky there, lucky enough to have their cinematic reunion, reassuring each other of their feelings under a golden sun brighter than any spotlight, truths spilling from their lips that felt more poetic than any script. But they’d been as foolish as they’d been lucky, to cling so quickly to each other.

Val wears a hard frown as she scrubs blood from the table, washing away the evidence of the new life just brought into this world, of the struggle his mother had gone through to do it. In the hours since her conversation with Trixie, they’ve been separated by necessity, her staying by the side of a laboring mother and Trixie seeing the sister-in-charge to get her marching orders and, somehow, explain her presence.

That’s one of the many new worries Valerie clings to, perversely glad for some new source of uneasiness. She’s been rubbing salt into her own wounds for months now; a new one is almost a relief.

How is Trixie going to explain her sudden appearance in South Africa? True, Sister Elizabeth will be grateful for any help, and not likely to press questions, but on the other side of the coin, how had Trixie explained her absence to Sister Julienne? 

As her shock and delight at seeing her girlfriend wears off, a clutching tension sets in. 

Trixie had told her she wanted her to feel less afraid… but her presence brings a new fear entirely.

\---

Trixie slides her suitcase under her bed, coughing as she inadvertently disturbs a layer of dust. She’s alone in the hut that is the nurses’ quarters for now, with just over twenty minutes to spare until the others will be off duty. Complicated, half-true explanations and excuses had stolen her afternoon, meaning there won’t be any work for her until the next morning-- barring emergency patients, of course. She wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up delivering a baby at two in the morning on her first night.

Rising from the floor, she dusts off her hands and dress, resigning herself to being less pristine than she usually likes for a while. She sits on her freshly made bed-- the sheets are starched and clean, at least-- and looks around the small room.

Of the eight beds, seven are now made, hers and the beds belonging to the other six nurses who aren’t nuns. Although it’s practically in their blood to make their beds without so much as a wrinkle visible, there are signs of life, from drying laundry strung from the rafters to framed photographs on bedside tables. Trixie smirks as she recognizes Valerie’s bra hanging on a line with a variety of other unmentionables.

Slowly, as if she might break some sort of spell, Trixie moves across the room, trying to identify which bed is Valerie’s.

She identifies it by the photograph on the nightstand.

There’s an unexpected wave of relief when she sees it, a wood-framed reassurance that Valerie hadn’t been running from _them,_ or at least, hadn’t wanted to leave them behind completely. She reaches for it, picking up the frame and brushing away dust to look closer.

It’s an old photo, but then again, that was a given-- Val’s photographs of all of them at Christmas, of Trixie and Lucille and Sister Frances and an ice cream truck, of her and Trixie getting ready for the fashion show, are still on the nightstand between her bed and Trixie’s. The one she’s holding now is from…

Trixie wouldn’t have expected anything else to stun her like seeing Valerie again had, but the photo feels like a gut punch, because it’s old, old film, old friends, old memories. It’s in color, and she remembers Phyllis buying a fresh roll specifically for that night. There are four of them in the picture, all standing close, hugging and laughing. They’re lit from behind by a glamorous, glowing carousel, the people riding it indistinct and out of focus. Valerie is on the far left, holding onto Trixie, and Patsy, who had just come home minutes before they’d gathered for the photo, Trixie remembers it like it was yesterday, is on the right. In the middle stands Barbara, her long white dress nearly glowing, her smile so vibrant and full of life. It might have been the happiest day of her life, as the saying goes, but it had been full of happiness for the rest of them, too. Everything about the day had been perfect, Patsy’s return the icing on the cake. Trixie remembers how light she’d felt, how energized, how joyful.

She hasn’t felt like that in a long time.

The squeak of the door opening startles her out of her thoughts, and she looks up quickly but breathes a sigh of relief when she realizes it’s only Valerie. The brunette gives her a half-smile. “Going through my things?”

“Just trying to figure out which bed was yours,” Trixie answers quietly. Her eyes dart over Valerie’s face, examining her expression, trying to glean any insight into what’s going on inside her head. Her girlfriend looks guarded, and her humor is clearly an attempt to cover up discomfort, but when she really looks at her…

There’s longing in her blue eyes, potent and unrestrained, like the insistent pull that had brought Trixie across a continent in the first place. So maybe… maybe Valerie shares in her heartache, too.

In the next instant, she has to look down, shame heating her cheeks. Of course Valerie is dealing with heartache-- isn’t that what had brought her here in the first place? Trixie is not the only person in her life. She’s not the only one Valerie cares about.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, stumbling over her words as she hurries to finish before Val can interrupt her. “I shouldn’t have just… shown up. I know it’s dangerous. And-- and you might not even want me here. I wasn’t thinking clearly. This was selfish. I’m sorry.”

“Well,” Val responds, a familiar smirk twisting her lips, “I’ve been selfish, too. I left without saying goodbye, without explaining… I just… I needed to escape.” She finally looks up and meets Trixie’s eyes. “And if you’ve missed me half as much as I’ve missed you, I can’t blame you for chasing me.”

Trixie feels her throat tighten and tears prick her eyes even as she beams. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

“Quite a mess, more like.” Valerie laughs as she sits next to Trixie on the bed.

“So…” Trixie takes a deep, if shaky, breath. “We’ve established that the choices that led us here might not have been the best ones. But we’re both here now. So what do we do?”

“Well,” Valerie looks around briefly before her stare pierces Trixie again. “Seeing as we’ll be alone for a bit, I’d quite like to kiss you, before we get bogged down in worry and fear.”

Trixie nods, a quiet laugh escaping her, and Val leans forward and does just what she’s promised.

After so long apart, so long going without, this kiss is desperate, long and yearning and heady, making Trixie cling to Valerie’s bony form. Her girlfriend’s hands grip her hips as Trixie threads her fingers through soft hair, and they can’t bring themselves to separate even when they need to breathe, so the kiss goes on until they’re both gasping, leaning against each other with smiles on their faces as they try to regain their breath.

“I love you,” Valerie says, burying her face in Trixie’s hair. “I bloody love you. And I don’t want you to think that because I didn’t write before, because I’m scared of what happens now, I don’t. I love you more than anything, Trix. No matter what we’re going to do.”

“You have no idea how nice it feels to hear that,” Trixie sighs. “I love you, too. More than anything. You’re the most important piece of my life, Valerie, and I promise I don’t mind if the same isn’t true for you right now.”

Val lifts her head, and then cups Trixie’s face in her hands. “I don’t deserve you. You’re an angel.”

Trixie dares to kiss her again, quickly and gently. “I won’t hear any more of that, Nurse Dyer. We’re perfect for each other, crossed wires and all.”

Valerie’s expression levels out, a real smile settling on her face. “Okay,” she whispers. “Okay. You’re really here. We’re… we’re good?”

“We have a lot to talk about,” Trixie says carefully. “But I… I understand why you had to leave. I could never begrudge you that. As long as we’re together, somehow, I’m happy.”

“Well, then,” Val decides, “we might have company soon… what say I, ah, show you around the grounds? There won’t be as many people outside, and we can steer clear of whoever is. More room to talk.”

Trixie smiles, feeling emboldened by the bubble of hope and happiness in her chest. “Talking sounds perfect.”

\---

Valerie’s nerves and worries are all but dispelled with Trixie at her side. She’d said they would talk, but as they move slowly around the compound, hands brushing, trading smiles, she can’t do anything but stare with awe and love at her girlfriend, who looks absolutely angelic, with the setting sun giving her a golden halo. Val had come to South Africa to escape, and with Trixie at her side, this moment really does feel like they’ve found another world, one of beauty and safety where it’s just the two of them.

But it isn’t a different world; things could never be different _enough_ for them to be safe together. And that’s the problem.

“Trixie,” Valerie asks, hating to break the wonderful silence, “what did you tell Sister Julienne when you left? What _exactly_ did you say?”

“I left her a letter,” Trixie answers, staring out at the dusky sky. “I told her I was coming here, to Hope Clinic, and intended to return before too long. I apologized for the short notice and suggested she ask Patsy to fulfill my duties until the new midwife arrived.”

Val chuckles. “You’re already replacing me?”

At this, Trixie finally does look at her, her blue eyes sharp and serious. “Valerie, no one could ever replace you, and I’m not just talking about me, or us. You didn’t see how Lucille almost cried the night Sister Julienne explained where you’d gone. You didn’t see how Phyllis clammed up and drew in on herself like she felt responsible.”

She blinks. “Well, um, I was mostly teasing, but, ah, sorry.”

Trixie nods. “I didn’t mean to be sharp with you, I just… we all miss you.”

Valerie had intended to press her for details about what everyone back at Nonnatus knew about her departure, but now she’s hung up on Trixie’s words, and the pain in her voice as she’d delivered them. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to hurt you all,” she murmurs. “But I couldn’t face explaining. I couldn’t talk about it, and I knew you would all try to help, try to get me to stay…” she looks up at her girlfriend. “Did you get my note?”

Trixie gives an affronted gasp and pinches her, hard. Valerie yelps and rubs at her arm. “What was that for!?”

“You left me a bit of scrap paper with one word!” Trixie says indignantly. “And yes, I did get the note, and I kept it on my person until the day I left. But I’m still quite cross about it.”

Because they’re once again shaded and protected by the trees they’d met under earlier, Valerie dares to give her a cheeky kiss. “You kept it? How romantic.”

Trixie huffs, blowing her hair out of her face. “It was all I had of you.” She squeezes Valerie’s hand. “I much prefer the real thing.”

“You’ve got me,” Val promises. “Trix, I… whenever you’re planning on leaving, I want to go home with you. But I’m…” she takes a deep breath. “Scared. I feel worlds better about… everything than I did back in December, but what if that’s only temporary? What if being back there is too much?”

Trixie stops walking, turning to face her and taking both her hands in hers. Her blue eyes are alight. “What if it isn’t? What if it’s a balm, a triumph? What if you finally come home and it’s all the better for the time you’ve been away?”

Her hope is infectious. “I do miss the cooler weather,” Valerie admits. “And I would kill for some good fish and chips…”

Trixie’s laughter sounds musical. “Not to mention, reliable water and electricity!”

“Oh, please,” Val teases, “I don’t think either of those are _reliable_ at Nonnatus in the winter.”

“As reliable as Fred!” Trixie retorts, and they both descend into laughter.

“But really,” Trixie says softly, when they’ve straightened and continued to walk. “It’s April, Valerie. You’ve been gone for quite a while. I understand if you need more time, and I’ll stay, no matter what. But maybe… maybe it’s time to think about coming home?”

Valerie takes a deep breath, staying silent for a long time. She likes it here, truly. It’s not just an escape from Poplar, it’s a redirection of her sense of purpose, and she’s thrown herself into the work here, where her colleagues are friends but not family, where people know her name but not everyone she’s related to. She can do good work here, and she’s less likely to get hurt.

But maybe… maybe she wants her family back. Maybe she’ll be able to finally leave behind the pain of losing her grandmother if she has people willing to share her burdens with her.

Maybe it’s time to stop hiding, get out of her head, and take herself and her passion for her work back home.

She turns to look at Trixie with the bravest smile she can manage.

“I’ll think about it.”

\---

Trixie makes a noise halfway between a groan and a sigh as she flops down onto her bed, the springs squeaking. It’s four in the morning, and she and two other nurses are just returning from a complicated delivery in a village a short while away. She’s bone-tired, but the mother had been stable enough to remain in her home, and her baby, though born breech, was healthy in every sense of the word. That would make any number of hours worth it.

She hadn’t expected anyone else to be awake, but a low, sleep-husky voice sounds from the bed next to her. “Trix? Is that you?”

“Yes,” she whispers, mindful of the others who might truly be sleeping. “Why are you awake, Valerie?”

“I like the stars,” she cracks.

Trixie cranes her neck to catch a glimpse of the glimmering indigo sky through the window. It’s a bad angle, and likely not much better from Valerie’s bed. “Why are you awake?” she asks again.

“Dreams,” Valerie answers, the word leaving her chest in a long sigh. “I dunno if it’s just because you’re here or not, but I’ve been dreaming more of… home. It happened a lot at first, too. But that was all childhood memories of my gran that are stained with blood now, things I don’t want to remember but don’t want to forget. I couldn’t sleep for weeks.” She takes an audibly deep breath, and Trixie hesitates, wanting to let her finish. “This is different, though.” The bedsprings creak as she rolls over, and Trixie catches the glimmer of what little moonlight permeates their room against her eyes. “These dreams are better. Nicer. Me and you… and everyone else. But mostly me and you. And we’re happy.”

“I’m happy with you right here,” Trixie promises, her whisper barely audible. Part of her feels like they shouldn’t even be talking about this, not with other people in the room potentially still awake, but she can’t stop herself.

“But maybe we would both be happier if we were back where we belonged.”

Again, the first thing that comes to mind is that Trixie _belongs_ next to Valerie, wherever that is. But that’s not entirely true, for either of them. Their world has always been more than just each other; they wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t true. She reaches out, stretching her arm across the gap between their beds, and Valerie meets her in the middle, her cold hand finding Trixie’s.

“I know we would,” Trixie answers. “So you just let me know when it’s time.”

“I’m thinking I should wait until I’ve got more than two hours of sleep in me to decide,” Val mutters.

Trixie can’t help but laugh softly, and she rolls over until she can kiss the back of Valerie’s hand before she lets go. “Get some sleep, then. I know I’m beat.”

“Night, Trix. Love you.”

Even offered so quietly in the dead of night, those words make Trixie’s heart twist as a smile climbs over her face. “Goodnight. I love you.”

\---

“Thank you so much, Nurse,” says the smiling young mother, holding her healthy, happy baby. It turns out that the worries that had brought her to Hope Clinic had been over nothing, but Valerie would take a false alarm over delivering bad news any day.

“Any time,” she answers. “Have a nice day.”

As she moves down the queue to her next patient, she catches a glimpse of glimmering golden hair and smiles. It feels so natural to be working alongside Trixie again. She’s missed her something fierce, over the past few months.

Valerie holds back a sigh as she leads a small child to where he’ll receive his vaccination. If she’s honest with herself, the yearning hasn’t stopped, since Trixie’s arrival. She would’ve loved it if Trixie had gotten here and wiped all of the homesickness away, but in contrast, it seems that having her here, a reminder of home, makes Val miss London even more.

It’s not as if she’d even thought Hope Clinic would be a permanent position… but there had been days when it was the only future she could see, when it hurt too much to think about going home. As the pain had faded, she had only sunk deeper into her work here, but now, with Trixie and her reminders of home and her gentle questions of how Valerie feels about it…

Her next patient is a heavily pregnant woman, and Valerie pushes her ruminations to the back of her mind so that she can focus on performing the exam. The mother is progressing beautifully, though, and when Val straightens again, she catches sight of Trixie once more, who has the nerve to wink when she sees Val looking.

Valerie sighs, dusts off her hands, and checks her watch.

After clinic is over, she just might have to see the Sister-In-Charge…

\---

“Ah, Nurse Franklin.”

Trixie looks up from folding linens as the Sister-In-Charge enters, a kind smile on her face. “Sister Elizabeth! Do you need something?”

“Oh, no. I just came to ask if you were planning to give your notice, as well. I presume your arrival here was mostly to retrieve Nurse Dyer. You’ve both been an incredible help, but I know you London girls can’t stay out in the sun for too long.”

Trixie masks her surprise with a smile and an obliging laugh. “Oh yes, I’m nearly out of suntan lotion already.”

“Well, we’ll miss you,” Sister Elizabeth says. “You can be sure I’ll be putting you to work for the next two weeks!”

She’s incredibly thankful for the sister’s sense of humor; laughter is one of the easiest covers for any other emotion. Trixie finishes folding linens as fast as she can, then rushes back to her quarters. Thankfully, she finds Val out back, having a smoke, and nobody else.

She lights her sobranie off of Valerie’s lit cig. “I didn’t realize you were handing in your notice already.”

Surprise alights on her girlfriend’s face. “Bloody hell, news travels fast.”

“Sister Elizabeth came to ask if I was planning on leaving, too,” she explains. “I told her yes, of course.”

Val smiles, a terribly attractive, lopsided, grin. “Two weeks, then. And we’ll be heading back across the ocean.”

“Are you ready?” Trixie’s question is genuine. She hates the thought that she could possibly be coercing Valerie into leaving before she feels comfortable.

“With you, I’m ready for anything.” Val turns to look at her, her expression earnest. “Really, Trix. I mean it. If you hadn’t come, I don’t know how long it would’ve taken for me to be brave enough to come home.”

“Well, if I hadn’t come, I don’t know how long I would’ve lasted without you,” Trixie replies, taking Valerie’s free hand in her own. But her girlfriend pulls away, wrapping her arm over her shoulders instead.

“I love you,” she murmurs.

Trixie presses a kiss to her cheek, careful to wipe away the lipstick mark. “I love you too.”

\---

Two weeks fly by insanely fast, as does their journey home.

The past month has been a whirlwind of emotions, interspersed with discreet touches and hidden kisses. Trixie knows that they’re very lucky to have escaped notice, at such a small clinic, and she knows she’ll have questions to answer about her departure when they finally return.

They’re coming home with as little fanfare as they’d left with, so Trixie and Valerie stroll up Poplar’s main street unnoticed, their street clothes not providing the recognition that their uniforms do. Unfortunately, it’s nearly summer, so there are no long coats to hide the fact that they’re holding hands. They resign themselves to brushing shoulders instead.

Trixie pauses at the foot of the stairs to Nonnatus, looking at Valerie as a smile spreads over her face. “Are you ready?”

“More than.” Val gives her hand a tight squeeze. “I’m home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I love to see comments and kudos, or you can find me on tumblr at nurseherewards. Happy Valentine's Day, and I hope you enjoyed the fic!


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